A slayer called Bella
by LilleHannigan
Summary: All five foot two inches of me is a killing machine. I break bone with flicks of my finger tips, dust the deposit off and watch the calcium and phosphorus molecules sparkle as they fall. Every vampire knows my name."
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

When you're young you think you'll grow up to be famous. It never happens, you age and reminiscing is like heroin to old people. You laugh at how life just reeled you right back in. Maybe you'll laugh about it with someone you love and so you'll tell yourself that reality is so much better than the imaginings of a young girl. Or maybe you'll have settled. Maybe you'll marry a car salesman that dumped you at seventeen for a girl with much bigger tits. You'll have 2.4 kids and a dog called Sam.

Maybe.

All five foot two inches of me is a killing machine. I break bone with flicks of my finger tips, dust the deposit off and watch the calcium and phosphorus molecules sparkle as they fall. I'm a cheerleader. I spend most of my days off working at a café in town, my job is to train in the back. I get paid minimum wage. Forks is a tiny, quiet town on the Olympic Peninsula which just happens to be a hell mouth. Green land and grey skies all year round and a touch of blood red evil and black magic every once in awhile.

I was popular, pretty, one of the select few in high school. Then Carlisle, my watcher, came along. He was a twenty-eight year old man with crystal blue eyes and golden cream hair who was my finest conquest. We met at Joe's one evening when I was making a coffee at work. He got to know me and took my number. I giggled with my girlfriends at practise the night before he took me to dinner. He held out my chair and helped me order, speaking fluent French, of course. Then he told me I was a vampire slayer. I laughed. He laughed and we ate our meal in silence. Our waiter, a small time vamp, tried to kill me. I learnt my trade pretty fast in the kitchen with a wooden rolling pin.

So far, my life has been a contradiction. I'm five foot two but each pitch black night I walk around my little town and hunt for the unsavory. I leave my small white window open slightly and carry a stake. I am famous, much more than a little girl could ever predict. It's not so exciting. I'm hunted by evil. Every vampire knows my name. I'll never age, not until the last vampire leaves this earth. I'll never have children and never again will I love someone. Sometimes I want to kill myself, but I wouldn't even know how.

I might consider getting the dog.

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If you're interested in me continuing this, let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**_Please review, it'd be pretty nice to hear you're thoughts. Thank you to my four very kind friends who did so previously. This is dedicated to you guys!!_**

You probably already guessed I'm horrific at serving coffee. These past few months I've been more concerned with staying alive than learning anything more than how to fill a milk jug. Sure, the slayer strength helps. Muscles popping out of nowhere has been great. I now have an ass. I can do basically every move I've ever seen in a kung-fu movie. But still, I'm horrific at serving coffee. You see it all comes down to this - vamps are still vamps and a slayers blood is still their equivalent of thanksgiving dinner.

Carlisle explained it to me once….

_'Slayers were invented by an Italian family, the Volturi. They were protectors, patrons and kind governors – the elite of every generation in their home Volterra. Their patriarch, Alessandro Volturi, back in 1003, found a layer of vampires on the outskirts of the town. He and his small army of men stalked them, learned their ways and set up specific faction of sorts. Over the years an elite group of fighters were handpicked by Alessandro. These were the original slayers and all men of course. In time, Alessandro and his warriors had wives and children, their sons fought along side them. For a few generations the slayers held their ground well, Volterra prospered. Vampires were fighting a losing battle and nothing had ever been successful before. The Volturi family were revered; Alessandro grew old and passed on his commitment to protecting the Voltuiri and Volterra to his eldest son, Aro._

_However, as you know, vampires aren't altogether incapable beings Bella. They too joined forces as word spread and patience frayed. The slayers were skilled of course, every generation was getting stronger, and so they held them off for a time more. However, as the battles became more frequent, one simple fact became apparent – when a vampire drinks the blood of a slayer, it starts some sort of chain reaction. I don't know what exactly, I've never seen it but the blood of a slayer gives the vampire a great power, they become much stronger, more agile. And so of course, when the vampires heard that an army of tasty warriors which happened to make them even more impenetrable were threatening their very existence they struck back, with a vengeance._

_One night, I believe it was around 1099 a gang of vampires attacked the town – they easily destroyed the slayers. When Aro saw how the battle was being lost he sent his youngest son Alfio to the castle to give the women and children a chance of escaping. The storey goes that some vampires followed him and killed all but one young pregnant woman, Aro's wife, Vanetta Volturi. We don't know how she escaped, some say she fought her way out, some say she hid and there was too much blood in the air for the vamps to get her scent. Either way she escaped thus ensuring the safety of that innate slayer ability. It is from this line of women that slayers are born every few generation or so. Your ability Bella, and too then, as it follows, your blood. It's been concentrated over these years and finally it comes to you._

_Aro himself was turned. Nothing the real Volturi had built remained. Over the decades Aro gave in to his new instincts and the Volturi home belongs to him still. They are even more powerful under him, much more dangerous and ruthless and the exact kind of vampires that are searching for your blood as we speak Bella.'_

I was ok with that. I knew fate had stepped in and dealt me a pretty crazy card. Well, correction, I was ok until about one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon when Rosalie Hale walked in the pretty yellow door of Joe's Coffee place. I was getting myself a glass of water after spending three hours breaking through a cement wall 4 metres thick Carlisle had set up out back. She requested a caramel macchiato. Rosalie Hale was a blow in really, someone that came to town two summers ago with her step mother to "escape" but never left. She drove an Aston Martin DB9 ,a present from her very repentant cheating step father and she only wore Forinarina, some bizarre Italian fashion label. I only knew these things because being a slayer vastly improved my information retention abilities. Like I said, I'm horrific at making coffee.

'We're out of caramel and macchiato', I told her. She didn't like that. Her eyes narrowed, slits of bright blue. I didn't care, I was beyond caring - but not in that sort of funny emo kid beyond caring kind of way. I just didn't have it in me to care anymore, I had plaster in my hair and my knuckles were bleeding. Besides, even if I wanted to I couldn't afford to care. People my own age aren't going to get it anyways. They think I'm a freak, even if I find their boyfriend's comatose body behind some sleazy bar after they've been attacked by a vampire slut.

So here I was, not caring and being stared down by Queen Bee

She continued to stare. I just laughed, made an Americano and handed it to her.

I grinned and offered it to her, 'sorry, it's the best I can do, you can take it or leave it.'

'I'll leave it, thanks ever so much,' she responded with a frustrated tone and a smile that was so plastered on she looked like she wanted to kill me. She turned on her most likely expensive heels and walked towards the little group of Forks elite that was slowly percolating through the door. She stopped at a point where she was right in the middle of the café and turned, 'oh and Bella, is it?'

'Yes.' Go on Rosalie, just give me a reason to vent I thought as I plucked pieces of cement for my long brown hair.

'You have some sort of white ….well, there's something funny going on just all over', she stuttered, flapping her little manicured hands around her face trying to pick out where it was exactly, 'oh, or is that just um…your face?'

Of course her table of minions, my old friends, started to laugh. Mike mouthed sorry to me, Jessica just looked ridiculously uncomfortable. As I took in there faces I reminded myself that I didn't care. I'm not being bullied by these kids. I ignored them, _them_. I couldn't do anything but leave them. Mike, my old boyfriend, couldn't understand the changes, the broken bones that were fixed in two days, the bruises, the late nights. My girlfriends, Lauren and Jessica, couldn't comprehend the fact that I carried a silver stake and wore a cross. And so, a few weeks after vampires started to hunt for the blood of a newborn slayer, I just broke up with Mike and stopped calling to the girls. It made things crap and lonely and boring but way simpler. Sure I still did cheer practice and I see them there, we talk, but only briefly. They know the guidance counselor practically forced me not to quit the team and I'll admit, I dig doing stunts that nobody else has the balls to do.

'Just my face Rose, but then again, I haven't saved up quite enough money to get the work done yet. It's just great that your mother marries rich men that seem to spend inordinate amounts of money on things, such as your nose and tit's for example.' I replied quickly, thankful that being a slayer also meant that my wit had vastly improved.

'Fuck you Swan,' she replied, her eyes were stony and harsh. I knew Jessica and Mike stuck up for me every now and again. I knew they wondered what happened to me last year and I really wish I could tell them, but all I could be was thankful. It made my job worthwhile that some people in this town didn't want to spend their lives making other peoples lives miserable.

'Watch your mouth and have a nice day,' I called as I returned to the back.

Carlisle was waiting for me.

'Bella, we've discussed this. Discretion is key. All slayers are drawn to confrontation. You must keep yourself in check, or I'll have to.'

'Ok, I'm sorry. I just. You know,' I apologised. I felt bad again, blush rose to my checks.

His eyes softened and he moved towards me resting his hand on my shoulder. 'I know, I heard. You were patient, but, being a slayer is going above and beyond...'

'Ok, above and beyond, so let's get back to work.' I nodded brusquely brushing him off, human contact was starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

'Sure,' he said softly grining at me with narrowed eyes, as if he was examining me. He was my watcher after all. Worry was his job.

'Now, a few quick revision questions. Where is the most apt place to thrust the stake in order to rip the skin?'

'Under the arm pit, dismantle the arm, create a crevice to destruct the torso,' I replied quickly.

'Good Bella. Hold for an unknown subject?' He responded as soon as I finished my previous answer.

'Dislocate shoulders, force subject to kneel. Pull forearms behind and head back towards you,' I slurred. I was on autocue. This was a daily routine for the past eleven months.

'Good,' he decided as if I ever answered them any differently.

'Carlisle, you've been asking me the same questions everyday for almost a year now. Can we please move on? I get it, blood red eyes bad vampires, but belly full of blood. Red cape, Voltuiri messenger. Any type of amulet, potentially using black magic too. Newborns fast but stupid. Stillness, abrupt in Russia, Strigoi in Romania. Unknown vampire body, dissect achiles tendon and wait. Virgin male will attract females and vice versa. Apopatraics are crap. Porhyria is not. And lots more information, that I already know.' I reamed exasperated at his slow pace. I was pacing now, over and back across the blue mats. I wanted to fight, energy was fiercely coursing through me body and it needed to be expelled.

'Very well Bella, on to my next challenge,' Carlisle said, he pulled out a small clipboard and asked a question that I never saw coming 'have you every used any type of explosives?'

'Seriously?' I couldn't believe my luck.

'Yes,' he waited for my answer.

'Of course not Carlisle. I'm a slayer, not crazy,' I laughed.

'Ok, so I'm just going to run through the science bit first. Now deflagrate and detonate…There's a difference…'

'Of course there is, hold on, I'll just grab that unwanted Americano before you start,' I called as I sped through to the front. As I picked up my coffee from the counter I could feel him, the air changed, it became colder and sharper. My skin prickled and tiny little goosebumps protruded through my skin. I reached for my stake that was strapped against my arm...


End file.
